Remember Me...

This lesson was a difficult one to learn. Why? Because on more than one occasion, I have not remembered.

Photo courtesy of QuiKe Photography & Video

I learned this from my father, but it wasn't a lesson he taught in a phrase. Nor was it an observation made based on a pattern of behavior I saw in him. He never asked to be remembered. And while I know that he would appreciate being remembered (everyone does you know) he is not the kind of man who would ask to be. I learned this lesson by looking at him and realizing how valuable his life and influence are to me.

I remember, on one occasion, having an opportunity to introduce a panel of guests to a platform. There were several gentlemen there, distinguished in their field, who were to address the conference. My father was on the platform as well, but he was not speaking at this event or sitting on any panels. His role was similar to mine. It was minor. When I spoke, one by one, I mentioned every man on the stage. Every one except my father. He took his turn and shared his part and I wouldn't have given it another thought except that someone brought it to my attention that I spoke of every man with good and kind words, but I did not mention my dad. I didn't remember...

I remember another occasion, when I shared with a gentlemen who had become my mentor some details of a decision I was wrestling with. In order to give him a clearer picture of my situation, I shared a little history to provide context for the decision. After I received the counsel of my mentor, and after I began to implement it, I realized I hadn't gotten any input from my father. I didn't remember... 

Those two experiences (and many, many others) taught me to remember my father. I learned that his experience, wisdom and input are invaluable. Even if I don't agree with him or if I think I know what he'll say, it is worth hearing him say it. Here are a few reasons why:

My dad is one of the most humble men I know. He is down to earth and a little plain. "Arrogant" or "unsociable" or "unapproachable" are no where near the radar when it comes to describing him. If you knew him, you wouldn't say he had an iota of flamboyance.

My dad is smart. He has no letters behind his name, but he is observant. He listens, That's more than can be said of many men I know. That one trait alone make him more intelligent than most.

My dad is caring and kind. There is no clearer picture of this than in the way he raised my siblings and I. And in the way he continues to care for my brother, David, who has cerebral palsy. He and David share a unique bond forged in laughter and service. Everything important I learned about service I learned from my dad. I've been to conferences and read books on the topics of servant leadership and service learning and service "everything else," but they didn't show me a servants heart. My dad did that.

My dad is generous. He has sacrificed time and time and time and again to give. Whether it be to a stranger or to a friend or most of all to his family, my dad has shown what it means to give till it hurts.

My dad is  a thousand other great things. As my siblings or my mom and they will tell you. Ask his siblings or in-laws and they will tell you. Ask the people who now him well, the people he works with or the people who have only met him once or twice and they will have good things to day about David L Mouton.

And if you ask me, I will tell you as well. I will remember. 

I am grateful for every lesson I learned from my father.